Devotion and Hatred
by Elipsa
Summary: They both can't seem to let go. They can't forget. They can't move on. So they use each other. Maybe it's not healthy, maybe no one else would understand and maybe they just don't care. It works for them... It works...


She hadn't changed in the ten years that had passed.

Long ebony black hair pulled into a high ponytail for ease of movement. Long limbs that moved with grace. A sharp, hot temper that matched a Weasley's hair. A fierce bearing that wouldn't deal with people underestimating her. Mocha colored eyes that reminded him of the coffee he had adored.

Angelina stood, tall and proud, against the raging wind. Her dark skin didn't show signs that she felt the chill down to her bones.

He watched as she stood in place, black robes billowing about her and he wished he hadn't come. She still wore the necklace he had given to her the night of the Yule Ball. A silver quaffle on linked chains.

A harsh breeze whipped her robes above her ankle, tearing at the thin anklet that held trinkets of skulls and a broken wand. A mourning piece.

They stayed there, in complete silence they stood, waiting for something. Eventually, she pulled out a rose, deep red that seemed painted in dried blood, and a blushing pink orchid. She gently placed the flowers on the grave.

"Do you think you could forgive us?" She mused, her words caught and thrown about by the wind as easily as her hair.

"_What's to forgive?"_ She wouldn't hear him. She never had and he hadn't stayed on as a ghost, merely visiting for check-ups on them. On the two broken people he wished the most would heal.

"You have to know we aren't bound by love for each other. Or even the children." She let her head fall back, staring up at the roiling clouds and angry storms. "Everyone else thinks so. They only see what they want."

"_You guys take care of each other."_

"He isn't you. He doesn't have a mean streak in him, not a bit." She laughed, eyes misting. "I'm not sure why I love that about you. You could be cruel, and then turn around just as quickly to become protective. George has the protective streak, too." Her voice dropped off to a murmur. "He isn't you, but he reminds me of you and I don't forget. He knows that it isn't him I love. He's known from the beginning."

He shouldn't have been able to hear her over the heralding howls of the upcoming storm.

"I tried to keep the truth from him, but he saw right through me. I don't know what he gets out of this."

Fred didn't say anything as Angelina laughed and walked away.

And like all of the previous times, George appeared minutes later once his wife apparated away.

Any doubt of why he still came, even after so long, evaporated and he moved towards his twin; his other half. People always claimed that the one you love the most was your other half, but Fred knew they only thought that, for they had no twin.

Like always when alone, George held no smile and his eyes glazed over with tears gathered at the corners. In his hands, cupped gently to protect them from the raindrops that fell, were a red Poppy, a yellow-orange Marigold and an orange Lily.

"_Oh George."_

If Death would allow him, he would go back - even for a single moment - to hug his brother.

George grit his teeth and glared at the headstone, flinging the flowers onto the ground, snarling, "You left me. I won't forgive you," and he left.

And Fred remained by his headstone, flowers meaning devotion and hatred merging and again he wished for their wounds to heal. He departed, his presence never known and never felt.

* * *

A/N I'm not sure why, but I have always found George's and Angelina's romance/marriage a bit odd, to say the least. In my head, they're basically using each other for their own benefits. *shrugs* Not exactly healthy, but hey, if it works for them. Companion piece to Deception. Don't have to read both, they just go together in my head.

Anyway, hope you enjoyed!

This is what I found for the meaning of the flowers:

Deep red Rose: Love and grief

Orchid: That the giver of the flower will always love the one getting the flower

Marigold has many different meanings but I went with: Cruelty and coldness due to jealousy

Red Poppy: Eternal sleep, oblivion, imagination

Orange Lily: hatred


End file.
